


An Able Victim

by The_Rifleman



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), The House of Secrets, The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Other, The Dreaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:51:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Rifleman/pseuds/The_Rifleman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley Quinn finds herself in The House of Secrets. This is not a Harley/Abel romance fic. Just two doormats commiserating. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Able Victim

The sound of his fist on her face made a dull thwack sound. She whimpered and then hit the floor with a thud. It was an accident. She knew that. She shouldn't have snuck up on him to give him that surprise hug. He didn't like being snuck up on, or surprises, or even being hugged really. As she lay on the floor with a bruised cheek and bloody lip, the world started to go dark around her.

I'll apologize when I come to, Harley Quinn thought to herself, and then she blacked out.

When she did come to, however, she wasn't in the dirty warehouse hideout with her boyfriend, The Joker, anymore. She was standing on the porch of a large, quasi Victorian house in front of two large wooden doors. She looked all around herself in confusion, her two blonde pigtails swinging wildly in a childlike manner.

"Hey, what gives here?" she asked out loud. Her voice was nasally and tinted with a Brooklyn accent.

Almost in answer to her question, one of the doors creaked open and a rotund man with black hair and a goatee stood before her wearing a dark, paisley dressing gown with light blue slacks underneath and gray loafers.

"W-w-welcome," he stammered.

"Who are you? What's going on here? Where's Mista J? What is this place?" Harley demanded quickly.

The man chuckled.

"So many q-q-questions," he said with a smile. "I'll try to answer as many as I can, but do keep in mind that once a question is answered it can no longer remain a s-s-secret."

Harley gave him a confused and impatient look.

"Look, buddy," she said, poking him in the chest with her finger and backing him into the entryway of his own house. "I don't know what you're game is, but if you don't put me back where I came from right now, my boyfriend is gonna-"

"I have n-n-no idea where you came from, young lady. Only y-y-you can truly know that. Just as only you c-c-can know where you're ultimately going." said the man.

Though she was still confused, Harley's temper deflated a bit. This man didn't seem to be any kind of threat to her. He was, at worst, only vague and annoying.

"My name is Abel, madam, and you have just c-c-crossed the threshold into The House of Secrets."

He gave her a little bow as the front door closed by itself behind her.

"Oookay, so how did I get here?" asked Harley.

"I'm not sure," said Abel. "Somet-t-times people just… end up here. Sometimes only b-b-briefly, other times not. What is your n-n-name if you don't mind me asking?"

Harley crossed her arms.

"They call me Harley Quinn," she said.

"Well, Ms. Quinn, I wonder, do you play chess?"

"Not really," she said.

"That's alright, follow me anyway, if you would."

Abel turned and began to walk down a hallway. Harley didn't know whether she should follow him or not. For a moment she stood there trying to act tough. Trying to act like she was in control and wasn't scared of being in a strange place with a strange man. But then she looked around and noticed some of the weird things that were surrounding her: A big, stuffed, two-headed polar bear for example was up against one wall, a glass curio cabinet with a mummy inside it was up against another, and there was an old umbrella stand near the front doors that seemed to contain more than just umbrellas, because a long, purple tentacle suddenly came slithering out of it right before her eyes. Harley yelped and then hurried along to catch up with her mysterious host.

As she and Abel walked down the long, dimly lit hallway, Harley passed by a round, decorative mirror that had a crack in it. She glanced in it for a moment and was surprised to see her face was clear and unblemished. She could swear that she felt as if her cheek were bruised and throbbing, but she just shrugged and walked on.

At the end of the hallway was a room. It was large, yet cozy, and contained many more interesting items all displayed on shelves and in cabinets. Each strange piece seemed to have some story or secret behind it. On one side of the room was a large, ornate fireplace with a roaring fire inside. In front of which was a small table with a chess board all set up on it and two soft looking arm chairs on either side.

"Please join me for a game," said Abel, gesturing to the board. "It'll h-h-help to pass the time while you're here."

Harley wanted to say she wouldn't be staying long, but she suddenly felt warm and dizzy and comfortable. As if in a dream, she walked over and took a seat in one of the arm chairs. Things felt very surreal for her and it was as if time had no meaning, or just stopped completely. She looked across from her and saw Abel sitting on the other side of the table and things immediately felt normal again.

"I-I haven't played chess since I was a little girl," she said softly. "This creepo neighbor guy used to teach it to me and he'd play with me sometimes on his front porch."

"Well, maybe it'll come back to you once we b-b-begin," said Abel. "They s-s-say that the things we learn are n-n-never really forgotten. Just l-l-lost somewhere in the attic of our minds."

"This place looks like an attic," said Harley. "Gives me the heebie jeebies."

Abel smiled.

Harley looked around and then down at the board and noticed that the chess pieces were very ornate and antique looking. Her pieces were red, while Abel's were black, and the board they stood on was made of very thick, heavy marble.

"You go first," said Abel.

Harley stared at the board. She put her finger to her lips and went, "Hmmm."

"That's a rather nasty b-b-bruise you've got there," said Abel.

"Wha- where?" said Harley, instinctively touching her cheek.

"I d-d-do hope everything is alright," said Abel.

"I didn't think anyone could see it," said Harley, looking down.

"Some secrets are harder to keep than others," said Abel. "w-w-would you like to talk about it?"

"No. It's none of your business," said Harley, defensively.

"Well, if you'd like to share, your secrets are always safe with me."

Harley concentrated on the chessboard, or at least she pretended to so as not to meet Abel's gaze. When she finally made her first move it was mostly random.

"Aha," said Abel, "A wise move."

Harley looked surprised.

"Yeah, uh, of course it was," she said.

"Hmm, n-n-now what should I d-d-do?" said Abel as he stroked his chin. He grabbed a pawn and moved it forward.

"It was just an accident," Harley said, suddenly.

"I see," said Abel.

"I mean my face, not my move," she continued. "Well, actually…"

"Did you have a f-f-fall or something?" asked Abel.

"Yeah, I fell. After I got punched," said Harley, making another move.

"I understand all about th-th-that," said Abel, making another move of his own.

"Really?" asked Harley, and for some reason she already believed every word this man said, like they were old friends.

"Oh y-y-yes. You see, my brother, C-C-Cain, hits me all the time."

"Yeah? Well, my puddin' did this to me. But like I said, it was an accident… this time at least."

"If you'd l-l-like I can get you an ice pack," said Abel.

"No thanks, I'm fine." said Harley. She moved one of her rooks out.

"What's your brother's problem?" she asked. "You guys fight a lot?"

"Oh, it's just sibling r-r-rivalry," said Abel. "You know h-h-how it is, you always hurt the ones you l-l-love."

"You aint just whistling Dixie," said Harley.

Abel reached out his hand to make his next move, when all of a sudden a little yellow creature flitted up next to the table on glittering wings. It landed on his arm and then climbed up his sleeve to his shoulder where it perched. For a second Harley almost thought it was a parakeet, but it was more humanoid shaped than any bird and it seemed to be made of solid gold.

"Oh, hello, Goldie," said Abel. "Have you come to say h-h-hi to our guest?"

"What is that thing?" asked Harley, much less freaked out than she knew she should be.

"This is G-G-Goldie," said Abel. "She's a golden baby gargoyle. Say hello to Harley, Goldie."

Goldie looked at Harley, then stuck out her little golden paw/hand and said, "Meeple."

Harley was overcome by the things cuteness, but at the same time the criminal side of her brain was wondering just how much a golden baby gargoyle would go for on the black market. She shook the little creatures hand.

"Hiya," she said.

"Okay, my turn, is it n-n-not?" said Abel, clasping his hands together. He contemplated the board.

"Wait a minute," said Harley. "You said that your brothers name is Cain? And yours is Abel? Why does that sound so familiar to me? Like from a fairy tale or something I heard when I was small."

"Many people know my brother and me," said Abel. "In one form or an-n-nother. Our tale is as old as time. Speaking of which, would you like to hear a story? I'm something of a storyteller you s-s-see."

"Um, alright," said Harley.

"This is also a very old story. It's not a secret or anything, lot's of people know it, but maybe it'll be n-n-new to you. It's called The Scorpion and the Frog."

"Doesn't ring a bell," said Harley.

"Well, once upon a time there was this scorpion that was walking down a road. All of a sudden the road ended at a wide and deep river."

As he talked, Harley noticed that Abel's stutter disappeared completely and his voice became much more deep and sinister sounding. She also noticed that the light in the room seemed to dim even though the fire was still blazing away next to them.

"The scorpion just had to get to the other side, but there was no way that it could cross the river without drowning. Just then, it noticed a frog sitting on the river bank. 'Oh frog,' it called. 'would you be so kind as to do me a favor? Would you please ferry me across that river there on your back?' 'No way,' said the frog. 'You're a scorpion. You'll sting and kill me.' 'Now why would I do that?' said the scorpion. 'If I did that then you would sink and I would die too.' The frog thought about this for a moment and then said, 'Okay, that makes sense. Hop on.' The scorpion did so and the frog slipped into the water with its passenger on its back. It began to swim at a steady pace across the choppy water and all was well, until out of nowhere, halfway across the river, the scorpion suddenly stung the frog right on its head. As the poison spread through the frog's body, and it began to die and sink below the water, dragging the scorpion down with it, it asked with its dieing breath, 'why did you do what you promised you wouldn't? Now you'll die too.' And the scorpion, with its dieing breath, answered, 'I know, but I couldn't help myself. It's just in my nature.' And they both went down together. The end."

The room brightened again.

"I didn't like that story," said Harley. "I hate frogs and scorpions and slimy, crawly things like that. They give me the creeps. I mean, you told it good and all, but next time you should tell one about puppies or something."

"I… th-th-think the moral of the story was that s-s-sometimes people can be like that scorpion and that frog. People like you and I, we're like the frog."

"I don't get what you mean," said Harley. "I'm a terrible swimmer."

Goldie and Abel looked at each other with dismay.

"I suppose I should take my turn," said Abel with a sigh, and he moved out one of his knights.

Harley immediately moved out her queen, as if she had been waiting to do that.

"A r-r-risky use of your queen," said Abel. He moved a pawn.

"I got a plan now," said Harley.

"Erk," said Goldie, suddenly, and she began whispering something into Abel's ear while pointing at the board.

"Hey, no cheating," protested Harley.

"N-N-Not to pry or anything, but wouldn't it be s-s-safer to be around someone who doesn't h-h-hit you?"

"Everybody's got a bad side," said Harley, grabbing her queen again. "There are no one hundred percent good people in real life, ya know."

Clack! With her red queen she took down his dark knight.

"I d-d-didn't notice I had left that open," said Abel, surprised.

Harley smiled to herself, proudly.

"Anyway, It's not like I''m exactly fit for anyone else," she continued. "Not anyone normal, anyway. You want to know a secret? Here's a secret for ya. I used to be a doctor if you can believe it. A headshrinker. That's how I met my puddin'. I was his therapist. I was an up and coming professional in the medical field, and now I'm on Gotham's most wanted list. I've even been committed many, many, many times to the same nuthouse I used to work at. It's not exactly like I can go back to my old life and date nice, normal guys is it?. I'm 'damaged goods' as Mistah J says. The only kind of guys who want me now are grease balls and thugs and… and… and Mistah J. At least with him I'm kind of safe. I get a nice costume and lots of pretty things. And if anybody looks at me twice, Mistah J takes care of 'em."

"I see," said Abel.

Little golden tears ran down Goldie's cheek and she rubbed her little eyes with her fists.

"What's the worst thing your brother's ever done to you?" asked Harley.

"Oh, um, w-w-well… there was this one thing involving boiling oil, but it's not important." said Abel.

"Yeah, it's like you said. People only hurt the ones they love. Mistah J really loves me a lot. Just like that scorpion must have loved that frog."

Goldie hopped down from Abel's shoulder and flew across to Harley's lap. She folded her wings back and curled up there like a cat, she even began to purr as she cuddled up against her.

"Aw," said Harley, stroking Goldie's smooth skin. Then she started. "Hey, who's turn is it?" she asked.

"I b-b-believe it's mine," said Abel.

"Abel! Where are you, you dimwitted sack of sweat and blubber!" called an angry voice from some distant part of the house.

"Who was that?" asked Harley.

"My b-b-brother," said Abel. "He's st-st-staying with me for a w-w-while. I forgot it's d-d-dinner time and he likes it b-b-brought to his r-r-room."

Goldie suddenly perked up and began to growl.

"Harley! Wake up you ditzy fool!" called another angry voice. This one was not from inside the house, but from a very, very far distant place.

Harley and Abel looked at each other worriedly.

"I'd better st-st-start dinner," said Abel. "Or Cain will k-k-kill me."

"And I'd better be leaving here," said Harley, thinking he was only using hyperbole.

"How do I get out of here anyway?"

"Just exit the w-w-way you came in," said Abel.

Goldie flew off her lap as Harley stood up.

"What about our game, though?" she said, gesturing to the board. "Who wins?"

"Neither of us wins," said Abel. "Maybe we can try it again some other time."

Harley looked sad.

"It was nice meeting you," she said. "I really mean that."

"It was nice meeting you as well, Ms. Q-Q-Quinn," said Abel.

"Goodbye," said Harley.

"Goodbye," said Abel.

They shook hands, parted ways, and then, as always, they both headed straight to their tormentors.

The End


End file.
